Thursday, July 31, 2014

How often have I paused on every charm

Here are some more photographs taken at Saana fell. Climbing to Saana was something to remember. And there were a lot of other things to explore near Kilpisjärvi.

I think we'll return there next summer, if at all possible, and preferably a bit earlier so that we can see how spring and early summer look like. We only explored a tiny corner of the wilderness, there is so much to see within a couple of hours of walking.

(Posting title is from the poem The Deserted Village by Oliver Goldsmith.)

And that ideas were governments turned into men

The clouds started to get thinner when we came back from the summit of Saana fell. We explored spots of snow and the little lakes, and had picnic, before walking down from the fell. In all, we walked for over 4 hours, gaining a little bit of understanding of the landscape in Lapland.

(Posting title is from the poem i wanted to overthrow the government but all i brought down was somebody's wife by Charles Bukowski.)

Wednesday, July 30, 2014

To pace the ground, if path be there or none

These photographs were taken on top of Saana fell on July 16th, while walking to the summit which was inside a cloud. The fog allowed 50-100 meters of visibility, so there was no danger of getting lost provided one stayed on the marked trail.

The moisture condensed on clothes, hair, and other cool surfaces, but the rocks were dry. I discussed this with my daughter, and we realized that the rocks were rather warm, because of the warm weather earlier, and thus the air was cooler than the ground. And because the rocks were dry it was easy walking, no danger of slipping on wet rocks.

Today we had +27 °C. I rode the bicycle for two hours and 35 kilometers. It wasn't bad, but I don't like weather this hot. In any case, at some point it will get cooler.

(Posting title is from the poem Most Sweet it is by William Wordsworth.)

And the fog from the ocean is cool, for once again it is July

On July 16th I climbed with my daughter to the summit of Saana fell in Kilpisjärvi. The summit was inside a cloud, and you could see only 50-100 meters ahead. Thus we couldn't have a look at the splendid Lapland landscape at large from the summit. But being inside a cloud was interesting in itself.

Saana's summit is 1,029 meters above sea level, and the summit is 556 m above Kilpisjärvi lake which is next to the fell. For Finland this is quite a climb, as the Finnish landscape is mostly rather flat. Geologically Saana is part of the Scandinavian Mountains, and thus younger rock than elsewhere in Finland.

There is a nature trail by Saana, and our original intention was to explore the trail. But when we saw the steps ("longest steps in Finland") going up the hill, we decided to go up, and in the end - on my daughters insistence - we walked all the way to the summit, and wrote our names to the guest book there.

The trail was well marked, with the next marker always visible in the fog, so there was no danger of getting lost. These photographs were taken on the way up.

I've been a bit lazy since returning from Lapland, but yesterday I explored the forests in Vaakkoi for 2 1/2 hours. It isn't quite as hot as on the previous days, but we got some rain, which pushed humidity to above 80% 90%.

(Posting title is from the poem A Magic Mountain by Czeslaw Milosz, translated by Czeslaw Milosz and Lillian Vallee.)

Tuesday, July 29, 2014

I saw a denier sitting outside

Here are some flowers to be seen at Kilpisjärvi. The photographs were taken on Salmivaara fell on July 15th.

(Posting title is from the poem On Returning to My Hometown in 2035 by Idra Novey.)

Monday, July 28, 2014

There is a feverish famine in my veins

It has been hot, today the temperature rose to + 31 °C. Yesterday I rode the bicycle for 1 1/2 hours, and went swimming with my daughter. Today I went swimming, and read books, feeling tired because of the heat. Tomorrow may be a bit cooler, some rain is in the forecast.

Here is a second installment of photographs taken while climbing with my daughter to Salmivaara fell in Kilpisjärvi. My daughter had a camera with her, and we discussed the settings on her camera (LX3), as she doesn't always get a photograph the way she wants it to be.

(Posting title is from the poem Laus Veneris by Algernon Charles Swinburne.)

The very soul in all my senses ache

We arrived in Kilpisjärvi on July 15, driving there from Rovaniemi, where the night train from Helsinki stopped in the morning. When we arrived in Kilpisjärvi, there was rain and thunder.

Later that evening the rain eased up. The weather forecast promised about two hours of clearer weather near Salmivaara fell. I went for a walk with my daughter, walking to the top of the fell which was close to the place we were renting.

I'm posting here photographs taken during the walk to Salmivaara fell. There will be also a second posting of photographs taken during the walk.

Later we learned that a teenage boy had got hit by lightning on top of the Saana fell on July 15th. Saana is visible in the photographs; the profile of the fell is easy to recognize.

(Posting title is from the poem Laus Veneris by Algernon Charles Swinburne.)

Sunday, July 27, 2014

And we’d be hungry from travel and for being almost home

I'm keeping to the chronological order with the photographs, making it easier to keep things in order myself. So far I have processed the photographs of traveling to Kilpisjärvi in Lapland by train and by car, and of climbing to the top of two fells, Salmivaara and Saana. The two photographs shown here were taken from the night train P266 from Helsinki to Rovaniemi.

In my Flickr stream there are usually 100-200 daily views of the photographs, but the Lapland photographs generated extra interest, as there have been a couple of thousand views so far today. Using the photographs in postings here at Light Scrape will take quite a few days, but that is good, as I have taken only a couple of photographs since returning back home.

(Posting title is from the poem Night Travel by Esther Belin.)

Wondered if we are writing poetry or all huddling in

These photographs were taken at the railway station in Pasila, when we were starting our trip north to Kilpisjärvi in Lapland. It was the first time I used the car carrier on the night train, 800 km to Rovaniemi.

I have been reading Hollywood by Bukowski, and like his writing more than ever. Earlier I thought he just pretended to be writing, but now I know he really worked at it. And it is deeper, much deeper than I thought it is. I don't know why it is so that my favorite writers, such as Thomas Bernhard, all seem to be pessimists. Bukowski fits there.

Bukowski filled up his non-writing time with drinking and gambling, and getting into trouble in various ways. Earlier I thought I'm very different from Bukowski, as I drink very little, and I have never even played the lottery. But now I'm not longer sure there is a difference.

(Posting title is from the poem I Am Visited by an Editor and a Poet by Charles Bukowski.)

Saturday, July 26, 2014

It followed the river first

I processed another 400 photographs from the trip to Lapland, and there are 2300 photographs still waiting. I decided to use the photographs in the postings here mostly in order. Thus here are two photographs taken earlier, on July 5th and 10th, before traveling.

It is hot outside, and I'm once again pondering whether I should ride the bicycle, or go for a swim. Meanwhile, I have been reading some books.

(Posting title is from the poem River by Greg Miller.)

Save where your nostril quivers, arches, and you snort in the night

Yesterday I went through 400 of the 3124 photographs I took while traveling to Lapland. I thought that the first one posted here should be this one, showing reindeer outside the window of the cabin we were staying in. Not a great capture, but depicts some of the feeling; this was the night of the first day we were at Kilpisjärvi.

Today promises to be another hot day, up to +30 °C, and above +28 °C between 11 am and 8 pm. I think some swimming is in the program.

(Posting title is from the poem A Twenty-fourth Poem about Horses by John Peck.)